Happily, last week I witnessed the strength of the human spirit’s resolve to maintain the delicate balance between man, mammal and nature in these islands.

Thursday, May 5, a massive stranding response team of skilled veterinarians, and volunteers – more than 500 strong — joined forces with National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association (NOAA) and Marine Mammal Conservancy (MMC) staff to save survivors of a pod of weakened pilot whales stranded in treacherously shallow Gulf of Mexico waters among mangroves near Cudjoe Key.

The nation’s eyes were trained on the scores of people working feverishly to save survivors, who, despite shifting sand bars, coral heads and changing tides, faced tenuous futures.

Volunteers worked tirelessly in four-hour shifts, day and night, buoying the whales at the surface to breathe, keeping them wet and covered from the sun, hydrated and tube-fed with Pedialyte and a liquid chum.

Watching the crane-laden barge gingerly hoist each of the two whales into slings was a breathtaking, nerve-wracking blip in time. Slowly settling the whales on the deck, careful not to crush their heart and lungs beneath their own weight, teams kept them wet and covered in zinc to prevent blistering in the hot afternoon sun.

Zooming my camera within inches of the first-loaded whale, my breath caught — his giant doe eye rolled up at me, looked into me. I was awash in guilt over the strange situation he was in, amazed and blessed I could be so close.

“It’s going to be okay, buddy. Hang in there,” I said quietly.

Under way, volunteers sponged water over the whales’ delicate skin, while veterinarians monitored vital signs and respiration. The survival of these mammals was paramount.

Finally, we reached 523 feet, nine miles offshore.

Videographer Bob Care and I scurried within safe distance of the barge, as eight people grabbed the sling’s straps, maneuvering the whales forward to easily slip off the edge of the foam padding into the blue.

The first whale dived down, surfaced and popped his blowhole like a snorkel, pausing, almost beckoning to the second, “Are you ready? Let’s go.”

Immediately, the second whale entered the water. The pair dove deep and disappeared. It was magical. The group of us left watching at the surface waited a moment, then whooped and hollered. They’d made it!

Exhausted and exhilarated, volunteers returned to the pen area, greeted by the remaining five whales’ squeals and squeaky chatter — a reminder they are not out of the woods yet.

Early Tuesday, May 10, experts successfully transported these five to a rehabilitation center 82 miles away in Key Largo, in a temperature-controlled Publix Super Markets’ semi-trailer.

Rehabilitation times could take months, but perhaps Blair Mase, NOAA southeast stranding coordinator, best summed up the combined efforts to safely move the animals.

“It takes a village to save some whales.”

Note: Since being transported to Key Largo, one of the five survivors at the Marine Mammal Conservancy was euthanized due to severe illness. Four pilot whales remain at the center, convalescing, and are reportedly responding to medical treatments.